


Conversations in Time

by Jennichi



Category: Foreigner Series - C. J. Cherryh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-20
Updated: 2006-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1632296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennichi/pseuds/Jennichi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another emergency or two for Bren Cameron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations in Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for qwerty

 

 

 **Disclaimer:** The _Foreigner_ series is the intellectual property of the author, C.J. Cherryh.

"Nand' paidhi. Nand' paidhi, the train is arriving soon."

A nervous servant's voice. And he should be nervous, with the paidhi to his sole care. No bodyguard for Bren Cameron today, although the human paidhi stood out like a sore thumb anywhere on the atevi mainland. _Bren_ was certainly nervous. It was suicidal to travel like this when everything about him from his shorter stature to his pale skin marked him as Not Atevi. And his face was known, these days, thanks to the news casts and endless publicity.

He felt naked without Banichi and Jago, without at least someone from his household, instead of Tano's fifth cousin or whoever this young man was. He certainly was not a member of the Guild. But the servant was efficient and helped Bren on with the ornate court jacket that he had declined to wear on the ride, pulling it on with practiced small jerks so as not to ruin the cut of the tight style and threading Bren's long braid carefully up and over the lace at the collar. The young man had starched the lace so well that Bren feared it might be deadly. Maybe he was a member of the assassins guild after all.

Bren was surprised and worried that he had managed to fall asleep on the short train ride. Stress and lack of sleep from trying to get a sudden rush of translations finished in time to avert a dozen minor catastrophes -- all good reasons to nod off on the soothing trip, but he thought his instincts were better than that. He hadn't stayed alive in Shejidan because he was bright-eyed and well rested.

The train came to a gliding halt, and he stood with his computer held close to his chest as if he wasn't sure if he should protect it, or it should protect him. The servant opened the car door and looked out, then bowed and stepped back as a large, familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

Bren relaxed slightly. "Cenedi-ji."

Cenedi nodded. "Paidhi-ji. The nand' dowager is waiting. I have transport arranged."

Once they were seated in the car and moving through the streets of the small town Bren decided it was safe enough to dig for more information. "Might one inquire why one is invited to visit the aiji-ji?"

And why alone, against all sane atevi instincts? Was Ilisidi plotting against her grandson again? If so, she had picked a poor time for it. The first shuttle launch was less than three months away, and any serious friction in the Western Association now could mean the end of the entire project. How long would the ship above continue to play nice? Jase had seemed surly last night -- surlier than usual.

He frowned at the thought. If Ilisidi was in Shejidan, so far from her favored perch in Malguri, it certainly meant that something was going on. If the shuttle project was her aim, then she should contact Jase. No, she probably _would_. The aiji-ma's grandmother had been waiting with unusual patience as the association moved forward in its technological modernization at an amazing pace. Surely she would want to meet Jase -- to test him.

And that would be a major problem. Open sky alone still made the ship-born and bred young man dizzy and nauseous. He still struggled with the Atevi language to the point that he had offered to eat Jago's ear last night when he attempted to thank her for passing the soup at supper.

No doubt she had heard enough from her spies. Jase and the wily Ilisidi together in private would be a disaster.

+++

She was waiting for him in the study of the small house -- Whose house? Bren wondered. Who did they owe _man'chi_ to, and what unspoken promises was Ilisidi making in return? She was perfectly composed as she watched him walk in, slightly out of breath from matching Cenedi's longer stride. _Bang_ went her cane.

"Bren-ji, one thought perhaps your train had gotten lost."

He smiled and bowed with perfect courtesy, before replying with calculated outrageous charm: "'Sidi-ji, they didn't realize I was coming to meet _you_ , or the staff would certainly have made it fly."

Her golden eyes gleamed. "They can do that these days, can they? Sit, sit." Bren took the chair across from her, as ordered. "And what is my grandson up to, that he doesn't have time to write me?"

Dangerous ground, as always, to talk about the aiji-ma with the woman who had been passed over twice for the position. Bren sipped his tea -- cautiously, with past lessons brought freshly to mind -- and wondered what she was fishing for. "Tabini-aiji is in great demand," he opted for at last. "There are a great many aspects of the shuttle project that he is overseeing himself."

Ilisidi's face was unreadable as she watched him drink his tea. Bren was certain her eyes were as sharp as they had been fifty years ago. "This other paidhi, Bren-ji. Is he learning well?"

Ah, a simple question, but with so much behind it. How to answer this woman who cherished atevi cultural history and imperatives completely incomprehensible to the human mind? Bren could barely grasp them himself, even when fully immersed in the linguistic mindset, and even then some were too biological for a human mind alien to this planet to recognize, let alone understand.

"He is making impressive progress, aiji-ji." He knew she would understand the story behind his words, which only left the question of whether he wanted her to or not. He had thought the association to be fairly stable, had thought Ilisidi supported Tabini, at least for the duration of this present crisis. What new currents had been stirring while he was bogged down and blinded by all his work?

She simply nodded as if this was the expected answer and picked up her tea cup. They worked their way through the light meal companionably enough, but as they parted she had one last bit of advice for him. "Watch your young wi'itikiti carefully. They are in the most danger just before they first fly from their nests."

+++

Which could mean, he thought sourly as he sat slumped over his computer later that night composing an official progress report for the government on Mospheira, either she thought Jase was _in_ trouble, or he _is_ trouble. Bren pushed the button to save his work to disk and sat back with a groan. It was late, and he had an early breakfast meeting in the morning. A meeting with the ship's paidhi, actually. No need to wonder how well Ilisidi knew the rhythms of his household.

There was a light tap at the door, and the young man himself stuck his head in. "Now OK?"

"Sure, come on in."

Bren attempted to batter his tired mind into functioning order. This was unexpected, especially when they were going to meet in another -- Bren glanced at the clock -- six hours anyway.

"Shipspeak OK?" From the slight scrunch to Jase's eyebrows, Bren hazarded that a "no" would be met with resistance. It would be better for him in the long run if Bren forced him to continue speaking in Atevi, but this was probably important enough that he didn't want to start tantrum. He nodded, and Jase slumped gratefully into a chair. It was always a shock to see another human here in his quarters, dwarfed by atevi furniture. Another human face, with all of the emotions crystal clear on it, despite all of Bren's reminders.

"Things are tense up there," Jase said, referring to the human ship in orbit. "The captains don't understand why the atevi insisted on redesigning the shuttles."

"The numbers were infelicitous. Two--"

Jase waved a hand. "Yeah, _I_ get it, but _they_ don't. And how do you explain the atevi dependence on numbers to someone who doesn't speak the language?"

Carefully and emphatically, Bren thought, but he didn't say it aloud. Instead he opted for a more sympathetic nod. He waited, but Jase didn't seem inclined to say anything more. Which was the main problem, Bren decided. The ship-born man seemed almost paranoid when it came to passing on information about the ship, and how could you trust an ally who was so secretive?

Jase fingered an escaping strand of hair and stared at the carpet. His braid was coming along, Bren noticed. It still wasn't quite a proper length, but at least it looked semi-reputable by atevi standards. He leaned forward and tucked away the loose strand, which earned him a startled look.

"You were tugging on your braid again," Bren explained gently.

Jase frowned. "Oh."

Nothing more, and Bren attempted to start another conversation. "I had an exciting day... Ilisidi called me out to visit her."

"The aiji-ma's grandmother? You went to Malguri again?"

"No, she was here in the province. Something is stirring, so we'd both better stay alert."

Now Jase was looking thoughtful, forgetting to frown for a moment. He suddenly looked less like a sulky adolescent and more like the young man he really was, and Bren felt a pang. Humanity sometimes seemed even more distant when Jase was in the same room. He thought of his family on Mospheira, and Barb. What a mess. He couldn't even find something to talk about with the one human on all of the continent; what would he do back on Mospheira?

Go skiing, he thought wistfully.

"The shuttle is on schedule?" Jase asked.

Which was probably why he came in here in the first place, Bren realized. Reassurance. Wanting to know that his only ticket home was still there. He attempted a smile, and it felt rusty. "Sure is."

Jase's answering smile was just short of blinding, and Bren thought rather fuzzily of that enthusiastic voice that he had looked forward to meeting all of those months before. That Jase was still in there, somewhere.

He noticed the one bit of hair had flown free again, and squashed another impulse to fix it. Better to keep his distance. After all, Jase would be gone again soon, and he would be left with the atevi. With Jago and Banichi, whom he _liked_ , even though he should know better. Even though Banichi always protested loudly at being relegated to salad status.

"Only seventy-six days left. What could go wrong now?"

 


End file.
